Gods

I had wanted to bookmark
an occasion where pockets
of air bubble, trapped between

ice and flowing water.
How mother said "Gods reside
in the most impossible places."

She instructs me to look
with the corner of my eye,
tilt my head toward the sun,
squint if I have to.
And I see them, boiling
jewels dancing atop rushing
water. "They're holding
the ice up." I say.
 

I see the Gods again when they

cradle a girls foot as she jumps
hop-scotch on the sidewalk.

Walking home, I see the dusty
chalkprint of the girl's hand.
 

She's holding up the world,
I think and continue home.

Reviews

[Toni Prehoda Kahler]

Not one wasted word. I read without pause, I read eagerly. I am moved toward tears while reading this piece. I don't care why, I don't even want to analyze why. I just want to say that I always find a depth of meaning and feeling in your writing, woven among the fresh imagry.
The conversation adds so much here. The separate images tied together with your mother's instructions, tied to deep notions of simple things that caught your eye carry the poem.
I always like walking through the visual-thought doors you open for me.

[Anthony M Smith Jr]

Nice poem!

[Ed Hart]

So pleased that Emily sent me this way... You've got it! The spirit. The seeing. That's the whole thing. The seeing. Everything else is an assignment.

[mick weller]

what a wonderful mum... and what a wonderful piece this is!
keep squinting I say...

[Bluet_Belle]

As ALWAYS wonderful

"She's holding up the world,
I think and continue home."


Your thoughts are great. I mean, the way you see, and the way you make us see, is just beyond my vocabulary. I cant describe it:)